


Britain's assets

by eiramew



Series: Cold War Dynamics [3]
Category: Iron Lady (2011), Political RPF - Russian 20th c., Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I've messed up cold war dynamics, dp, just written for nsfw, like really, please don't yell at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiramew/pseuds/eiramew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pinned against the wall by a surprisingly convinced strength, Margaret Thatcher raised her hands and surrendered.<br/>''Shit Neil, are you crazy? Anyone can knock on that bloody door and come in!''<br/>''Yeah, and that's why it's so exciting.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Britain's assets

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. _Really_ sorry...

Pinned against the wall by a surprisingly convinced strength, Margaret Thatcher raised her hands and surrendered.

''Shit Neil, are you crazy? Anyone can knock on that bloody door and come in!'' Her political opponent buried his face in the small of her neck.

''Yeah, and that's why it's so exciting.'' Thatcher bit her lips and pushed him with no real determination. 

''I'm serious. What are you doing here anyway? You should be in _your_ room, writing the speech of your life, at least the speech of your week... You should – ''Kinnock silenced her in a kiss. He was still holding her wrists tightly, but he felt her body softening against him. She was tired, no doubt about that. Her mouth was melting deliciously, leaving a taste of expensive lipstick and political power. He kept kissing her until he was sure she was relaxed enough, then he broke the contact and cupped her face slowly. 

''That's a real pain in the ass to admit, but I've missed you.'' The Prime Minister took a deep breath and let her head slump down on his shoulder while her hands slid along his chest.  
Thatcher couldn't bear to look so weak in his arms, though her exhaustion couldn't help it. As long as he stood away from her, she could hit him with her harshest words and destroy him only by her oral ease. But as soon as he put a finger on her skin, she surrendered like a child. This relationship was something she hated, craved and needed.  
Margaret grabbed his tie and pulled him against her. She caught his lips with hers and kissed him hard enough to draw blood. Neil jumped and seized her shoulders to break free from her teeth. 

''For God's sake! They should lock you up! Or at least, they should muzzle you!'' Margaret grinned wryly, purposefully revealing her white sharp canines. They stared at each other for a second; the temperature was rising again. Kinnock put his hands on her hips and started to undo the zipper of her skirt, taking his time and nuzzling against her neck while Margaret's fingers untied his tie. Once the stiff fabric of the skirt reached the floor, Neil slid his hands under Thatcher's blouse while she lowered hers to his groin. She couldn't help a mocking smile as her fingers encountered the prominent bulge of his trousers.

''This impatience will bring you on your knees on day!''

''Maybe...'' Neil replied, his mouth stuck against her skin, and as she felt his teeth, she got free from him. 

''Neil! I said no teeth. That leaves marks.''

''Mmmmm?'' His hands settled on her butt. He slid a finger under the elastic of her stockings and made it slam against her skin. The Prime Minister let out a sharp yelp of surprise, making Kinnock laugh. 

''I hope you're happy now. I've planned not to wear stockings today but I changed my mind..'' She grumbled. The Welshman smiled and kissed her forehead, his hands still stroking her bum. She began to unbutton the top of his shirt and he moved his mouth to her ear. He was on the verge of whispering a randy comment when the door opened. They both froze and Margaret's nails dug hard into Kinnock's shoulders. It could have been anyone, but they surely weren't expecting USSR's first executive president. 

''Mrs Thatcher, I thought about what you said concerning -'' Gorbachev stopped in the middle of his sentence and his eyes widened. ''I... I knocked...''

''Shut the door.'' Margaret commanded, and he obeyed instantaneously. Her voice was as steady and cold as ever, although she was almost naked in front of the man with who she discussed the use of nuclear weapons only a few hours ago.  
Neil was completely astonished by her total casualness, though he could understand it. Gorbachev might be one of the most important men of the world, Thatcher was _the_ most important woman of the world.  
Margaret looked him right in the eyes.

''What happened moments ago is never to be spoken of again.'' Gorbachev smiled and took a step toward her, his Russian accent resounding oddly against the old British brick of the walls. 

''What about _what happened in this hotelroom stays in this hotelroom_?'' The Iron Lady couldn't prevent a mischievous grin from taking over her lips. 

''Oh, I see...'' She simpered, her fingers playing with his jacket's hem. ''If you promise it won't get out of these four walls...'' The Prime Minister got rid Gorbachev of his jacket and sat him on the edge of the bed. She put her hands on his knees and brought her face almost against his.

''I would love to discuss _foreign affairs_ , what do you think?'' The Russian seized her pussy-bow and pulled slowly, letting the smooth fabric undo in a soft rustling noise. Neil, who also sat on the bed, heard her literally purring. Gorbachev smiled.

''I would be delighted.'' She gave him a feline look and brought her hand inside his pants.

''Oh oh, the lady wants to take things in hand!'' Her skilful fingers freed him and she seized his cock with one hand, resting the other one on Kinnock's knee. The Welsh watched her while she stroked him up and down. He could read determination written on her face, and her eyes were sparkling. No doubt, she knew what she was doing.  
Gorbachev sat back a little so she could wrap her hand around him and slide up and down. The two world leaders found themselves plunged into a battle of looks, even if the Russian seemed to lose progressively his steadiness. Her thumb circled the top of his cock, making him clench his fists around the sheets and swear.

''дерьмо !'' Margaret smiled wickedly, the corners of her mouth distorting her lips into a wry line.

''Looks like someone is having trouble holding a stable position...'' Gorbachev knew that she purposefully used that expression as consciously as he knew the mitigated state of his government. She removed her hands, placed them on Mikhail's shoulders and settled herself on his lap, taking him inside. He groaned softly and brought his hands on her breast, but she snapped him.

''Get your hands away from  _Britain's assets_ !'' He laughed.

''Alright, alright!'' 

Neil's jealousy was beginning to tickle the pit of his stomach. His eyes didn't leave her since she kneeled in front of Gorbachev. As if she could read his mind (though he wouldn't be surprised to find out that she actually  _could)_ , the Iron Lady smirked and teased him. 

''Poor Neil, I bet you wish to be in Mr Gorbachev's place right now, don't you?'' Kinnock frowned.  
''Ah, don't worry. If you're a good boy, maybe you'll get a little reward..'' he pursed his lips and looked down. She could mock him, yes, him and his stupid, delusive hard-on, still stuck in his underwear. Margaret winked at him and went back to Mikhail, rising and falling around him, squeaking and panting softly. Neil decided to stand up and went quietly behind her. She moaned as she felt his hands on her hips.

''Naughty'' He didn't reply, just carried on stroking her body, his fingers caressing her belly, breast and shoulders as he nibbled the dainty skin behind her neck. Thatcher groaned loudly and raised her hands to bring his head closer. He moaned in the small of her neck and lowered his palms on her back till he reached her arse. Her body curved under his touch, but as she felt one of his fingers sliding somewhere else, she stiffened and caught his wrist.

''No.'' Neil nibbled her earlobe, making her panting anew.  
''No?'' She managed to answer between her moans.  
''No.'' He twisted his finger as Gorbachev raised his hips, driving hard into her, and she cried sharply.  
''Come on'' Kinnock whispered. ''I know it's exactly what you want!'' Her back arched and she rested her head against his shoulder, eyes closed. She couldn't speak no more, but Neil understood. He kissed her cheek and slid two fingers in her mouth, feeling her tongue flickering around. He removed his first finger and used the two wet ones instead. Margaret swung her hips to bring them deeper. And suddenly, she felt them replaced by something bigger. She swallowed hard but turned her head and smiled to Neil. Her eyes were tearful, both by pleasure and pain. His cock pressed in, slowly and carefully, as he cupped her breast and kissed her neck. He stopped twice, and then pushed deeper. She screamed and tumbled on Gorbachev's chest as they began to move together, hips rocking slowly and cocks sliding in and out as if they were one, increasing they rhythm after each thrust. Margaret strengthened up in a last effort, her other hand locked on Neil's hip. She was shouting, crying and sobbing at the same time.

''Oh yes!... Ooooo yes!.. Please! Mmmmm.... Fuck... I ... I … '' Her voice broke, surpassed by her loud moans as she panted heavily. She came first, her vocal chords producing a strange, deep scream as Neil held her tightly against him. Thatcher was completely dazzled and somehow deafened by her orgasm, and when they came, she didn't hear, she didn't see. She just felt herself collapsing on Mikhail's chest, filled and satisfied, tangled lovingly in their arms. 

ೱೱೱ

When Margaret got out of the bathroom, Gorbachev has left and Neil was sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt. She walked across the room and sat next to him.

''Stay here.'' He turned his head to face her. She was beautiful, wrapped into a soft and clean white towel, still wet from the shower and smelling good. She hasn't dried her hair, but her damp locks were already curling around her face. He'd never tell her that he prefers her _au naturel,_ without makeup, without overpriced lipstick, without rigid hairspray. He smiled and stroked her thigh.

''I'm sorry, I have to go. The lads are probably waiting for me.'' She rolled her eyes.

''You're not a child anymore for God's sake! And if they ask you what you were doing, tell them the truth. They won't believe you anyway.'' He kissed the small of her neck before standing up.

''I know, but... - '' She stood up.

''Listen, I promised you a reward, and I think I kept my promise. Don't imagine it was easy as pie for me, I think I won't be able to sit properly for at least three days!'' He laughed softly.

''Yeah.. Yeah.'' As he still didn't seem convinced, Margaret raised her hands and let the towel falling on the floor. 

''Oops.'' He looked at her naked body and swallowed hard. She brought his hands on her hips.

''But if you really, _really_ don't want to stay...'' 

''Okay, okay! I stay, you won. ''She kissed him softly and rubbed her nose against his neck before pulling him with her on the bed. 

''As usual.'' 

''Don't push it eh!'' He chided her. 

''I won't, don't worry.'' She smiled. Kinnock drew the sheets on them and switched off the lights. ''Good night, Neil.'' He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled against her ear.

''I love you.''

''Well'' She replied. ''I hope they have an effective treatment for that.'' He laughed softly in her hair, as little surprised by her answer as Gorbachev when he opened the newspaper the next day to read Mrs Thatcher's statement.  
_''I like Mr Gorbachev; we can do business together.''_

 


End file.
